


Covert

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: F/F, Inline with canon, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Secret Crush, Shyness, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-30 07:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3927961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sheska hadn’t counted on eavesdropping involving so much waiting." Sheska and Winry leave themselves with nothing to do while eavesdropping except for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Covert

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluenarcbird](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=bluenarcbird).



Sheska hadn’t counted on eavesdropping involving so much  _waiting_.

For the first half-hour anxiety kept her alert, so jittery with nerves it was hard to even sit still and maintaining a semblance of calm was wholly out of the question. But as minutes stretched longer her stress ebbed accordingly, until even the thought of how much trouble they’ll be in if they’re caught has faded into just dull awareness without the sharp edge of panic it had initially. Sheska wishes she had brought a book, maybe, even though the activity would probably distract her from the attention she’s supposed to be paying to the complete silence coming from the headphones; as it is she’s just bored, with nothing to look at except for the array of wires and clips in front of her or Winry leaning against the wall alongside her.

At least the latter is a better source of interest than the switchboard. With her head tipped back against the wall and her eyes shut like she’s maybe actually asleep, Winry’s none the wiser if Sheska stares longer than she usually dares to let herself. The other girl’s hair is falling half-over her shoulder, the long yellow strands that makes Sheska’s fingers ache with the desire to reach out and see if they are really as sun-warm as they look, and the uniforms they are wearing might climb high to their throats but the skirts are short, leave Winry’s long pale legs stretched out across the somewhat cramped space tempting as the pages of a book yet unread. It’s a distraction, one Sheska’s not sure she can afford to indulge in, but with nothing else to think about it’s impossible to avoid feeding the prickle of shy warmth under her skin. 

“What are you staring at?” Winry asks, her voice muffled by the headphones over Sheska’s ears, and Sheska swears she can feel her heart skid out on a beat. Her eyes snap up to Winry’s face too late to pretend innocence, her stomach dropping into ice at the awareness that she’s been caught; Winry’s watching her, eyes wide and clear, and Sheska flushes instantaneously crimson under the other girl’s gaze.

“What!” she gasps, breathless with the sudden return of all her forgotten panic. “Nothing, what, I wasn’t staring!”

“You were,” Winry says. Sheska can see the beginning of a smile on her lips in the moment before she has to look away and duck her head in a futile attempt to sink straight through the floor under them. “What were you looking at?”

“Nothing!” Sheska whimpers, brings her hands up to hide her face. She can feel herself glowing against the cool dark of the air, hot as if she is standing outside at midday in summer. “Never mind, please don’t ask.”

“Sheska.” It’s impossible to pick out subtle intonations past the headphones, but Winry doesn’t  _sound_  angry, from what Sheska can hear past the hum of embarrassed blood rushing under her skin. “Why are you hiding?” Sheska shakes her head, helpless to even find words for the embarrassment coursing through her, and then there’s a touch at her skin and she jumps so badly she nearly topples over to the floor.

“Calm down,” Winry is saying, and gentle fingers are closing at Sheska’s wrists and urging her hands away from her face. Sheska can’t resist, even if she’d like to keep her hands right where they are for the rest of time; Winry’s hands are too strong, too warm and steady for her to even think straight, and even around the thud of self-consciousness in her pulse something manages to spark adrenaline up her spine at the awareness that Winry is  _touching_  her, that the heat at her wrists is from the other girl’s hands.

“Stop freaking out,” Winry says, and Sheska can’t avoid looking at her now. The other girl is smiling, her mouth twisting around the expression like she’s trying and failing to hold it back, and Sheska would consider dying right then and there if she weren’t captured by the soft curve of Winry’s lips on that half-repressed smile. It’s hard enough to keep her gaze off the blonde’s mouth at the best of times; right now, with her nerves stretched past the breaking point and thrumming with anxiety, there’s no hope for her at all.

She’s sure Winry can’t hear the gust of a sigh that spills from her throat; Sheska can’t hear it herself, even though she doesn’t need hearing to feel the whimper of exhausted desire at her lips. But Winry’s gaze drops to her mouth, her eyes flicker back up across Sheska’s face like she’s analyzing something, and as her smile goes slack with surprise Sheska knows that any cover she has managed to maintain is completely blown.

“Sheska--” Winry starts, and Sheska starts talking, too fast and too rushed to think about the words.

“I’m sorry!” Loud, that, so shrill she can hear the strain on it clear past the cover over her ears. “I didn’t want to say anything, I didn’t want to frighten you and I wasn’t going to let you know, I promise, I was just going to keep it to myself and you would never have known but there was nothing to  _do_  and I didn’t mean to stare. I can keep my eyes shut, if you want we can finish here and then I’ll leave you alone, I completely understand that you won’t want me around after this.”

“Sheska.”

“I really didn’t mean to, I didn’t want you to know, I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret from you. Well, I was, I guess, but I wanted to keep it a secret from  _everyone_ , not just you, I’m so sorry!” Sheska can feel panic converting into tears, her eyelashes going damp when she blinks. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

“Sheska.” Winry’s hands drop from Sheska’s wrists. For a moment Sheska is cringing back, expecting a slap, maybe, or a punch, she’s not sure which would be better suited to the situation. She’s not expecting the grip to settle at her shoulders, the fingers to press in against the heavy cloth of her uniform with no less gentle care than they held her wrists. “Do you  _like_  me?”

“What?” Sheska manages. Winry’s eyes are very blue, even in the dim lighting. “I’m not...what?”

Winry’s mouth is going tight again, her lips quivering ever so slightly like she’s trying to hold an expression just against the inside of her mouth. “You  _do_.” Her hold at Sheska’s shoulders loosens slightly, her chin tips down, and she starts to smile. “Well. That explains a lot, actually.”

“What?” Sheska’s heart hasn’t slowed; if anything it’s pounding harder, now, turning the shadow of Winry’s eyes into heat in her blood and shaking in her fingers no matter how hard she tries to press them into stillness against the floor. “Wait, what does it explain?”

Winry’s smile is spreading wider. “A lot,” she repeats. “Like I said.”

“Oh,” Sheska says, blinking fast as she tries to get her bearings. “Is...that a good or a bad thing?”

Winry’s laugh is too faint for Sheska to hear, but she can see it, the way it crinkles against the line of the other girl’s nose and curves at the corners of her eyes. “It’s sure a thing,” she says, and then she leans in, and Sheska is being kissed by the most beautiful girl she’s ever known.

Sheska doesn’t shut her eyes. She actually opens them wider, can feel her expression falling open with shock and disbelief; she’s pretty sure she’s making a whimpering noise, too, but she can’t hear it and Winry’s not pulling away, and Winry’s  _not pulling away_ , there’s heat against her mouth and the soft of Winry’s lips fitting to hers and she’s feeling lightheaded, the gravity of her world is drifting up and away to leave her hovering weightless and untethered. The fingers against her shoulders are very gentle, now, one’s sliding in sideways along the path of a seam until fingers touch the side of her neck, and Sheska’s hand comes out on its own to land careful at Winry’s hip instead lying useless at her side. The contact is almost startling, the weight of the thick fabric still clinging alarmingly to the curve of the other girl’s waist, but Winry tips into it, smiling and saying something Sheska can’t hear at her mouth, and Sheska finally thinks to shut her eyes and let the distraction of too-close vision go.

It’s very strange, to have her eyes shut and her ears covered; all it leaves her is the sensation under her fingers and the heat on her tongue, the hint of oil and metal in the air and the flavor of apples on her tongue. Winry’s humming at her lips, leaning in closer to press Sheska up against the wall behind her, and everything is warm, now, Sheska and the air and Winry especially, warm and soft and unexpectedly gentle. This is not the rejection she was expecting, none of the shock or horror or distaste that has kept her silent until now; this is Winry pressing against her, leaning in closer, fitting a knee in between hers and sliding up until the motion catches the bottom edge of Sheska’s skirt.

“ _Oh_ ,” Sheska blurts without pulling away, and Winry does fall back then, pulls back by a few inches so Sheska can blink herself back into focus at the other girl’s face. Winry’s cheeks are flushed, color staining pink across her cheekbones and her lips damp and parted until it’s hard for Sheska to look away, hard for her to process the way Winry’s fingers are bracing at the back of her neck and trailing down against the line of her arm.

Winry takes a breath. Sheska can see it move in her shoulders, the inhale coming adrenaline-fast enough to need the extra action, and when she says, “What were you staring at?” there’s so much knowing purr on the words Sheska can hear it clear through the headphones.

“Your legs,” she says, too warmed-over with lingering surprise and shocked pleasure to think about what she’s saying. “You have really nice legs.”

“My  _legs_?” Winry asks. When Sheska looks up to her face she’s starting to smile, surprise clear in her eyes and soft on her lips. “No one’s ever complimented my legs before.”

“They should have,” Sheska says, and then she processes what she’s just said and can feel herself start to glow red all over her face. “I mean--”

“Wow,” Winry grins, “You are so  _cute_ ,” and she’s leaning back in before Sheska has a chance to process the words or string them together into anything even faintly comprehensible in her head. This time Winry’s holding her still, her fingers curling up against the back of Sheska’s head to hold her in place, and Sheska’s pretty sure her glasses are tipping sideways but Winry’s licking against the inside of her mouth and she can’t be concerned with little things like vision. All she can do is hold on, twist her fingers into a grab at Winry’s uniform coat like that will somehow keep her in place when her whole world is twisting sideways under the force of the heat burning into her veins and hazy in her vision.

Sheska doesn’t know how long it’s been when Winry pulls back again. It’s long enough that she’s forgotten how to be anxious, enough that it takes her a moment to realize she’s wearing headphones and another to remember why. Winry’s eyes are dark, drifting across her features like she can’t decide what to stare at, and Sheska is sure her desperate hold on the other girl’s clothes is the only thing keeping her from floating up to the ceiling close over them.

“Are you still listening?” Winry asks, looking breathless and overheated.

“What?” Sheska says, then remembers the headphones. “Oh. Yeah. I haven’t heard anything yet.”

Winry nods. “It could still be a while.” Sheska can see the care with which she takes her next breath, tips her chin down like she’s bracing herself for some statement. “Can you keep listening for us both?”

“Huh?” Sheska says automatically. Winry’s letting her go, reaching up to push her headphones down and off her ears, and Sheska reaches up with her free hand to touch her own, like she’s checking to make sure they’re still in place. “Why are you taking yours off?”

“I want to hear you,” Winry says, easy and without hesitation, and then she’s leaning in while Sheska is still in the process of turning into a single point of embarrassed heat. Winry’s breath comes hot at the top of her collar, fingers land against the outside of her knee, and when the other girl’s lips touch against her skin Sheska can’t help the way her head drops back any more than she can help the breathless whine of sound that spills over her lips. She lets Winry’s coat go, swings her hand up to clap over her mouth, but there are fingers at her wrist, gentle pulling to urge her hand away.

“Don’t,” Winry says, mouth so close to Sheska’s skin she can feel warm breath on every word. “It’s fine, there’s no one to hear you but me.”

“But--” Sheska starts, and the fingers against her leg slide up, dip under the hem of the short skirt, and suddenly every inch of her skin is burning hot with anticipation. “ _Ah_.”

“It’s fine,” Winry says again, careful and soothing with the words. “Just let me know if you hear anything.”

“Oh god,” Sheska says to the ceiling, shuts her eyes against the heat spreading out over her whole body. She feels too-warm, like she’s turning to steam under the urging of Winry’s fingers, and Winry’s still moving higher, up past the bounds of any sort of propriety and over the curve of her thigh, dangerously close to --

Fingers brush fabric, Winry’s touch brush against the line of Sheska’s panties, and Sheska’s eyes come open wide, her back arches of its own volition against the wall. “ _Winry_!”

A laugh, loud enough she can hear it without needing to see the way it blooms warm and delighted over Winry’s features. “D’you want me to stop?” The other girl’s fingers are still moving, tracing out the edge of fabric over the top of Sheska’s leg, and there’s nothing but heat in her blood, pooling low in her stomach and tingling electricity up her spine.

Sheska doesn’t answer, at least not coherently. She’s blushing too hard to fit words to the refusal, far too flushed and warm to even begin finding coherency to say  _no_  or  _don’t stop_  or  _are you sure this is really happening?_  Her heart is pounding in her chest, her pulse coming so loud it’s nearly echoing in her muffled ears, and Winry...Winry’s fingers are sliding down between her legs, pressing friction against the warm inside of her thighs, and Sheska’s knees are sliding wider in all the implicit agreement she can’t frame in her throat.

“Wow,” Winry says, and there’s another little burst of a laugh against Sheska’s skin. Sheska feels like she’s winding tighter with every inhale, her shoulders tensing like she’s doing something other than just sitting still and letting Winry touch her. But Winry’s touch is like fire, her fingertips sparks to Sheska’s blood, and the whole flat of her palm is pressed against Sheska’s thigh, now. “You’re really warm.”

Sheska makes a sound, though she has no idea what, exactly; it’s something of a whimper and something of a gasp, the weird strain of an exhale coming through a body wound too tight with anticipation to sustain normal rhythm. Winry takes a breath against her neck, pulls back enough that Sheska could look at her, if she could remember how to stop blushing and look away from the ceiling; she’s considering her options, trying to remember how to control her body, when the friction of Winry’s fingertips dips under the edge of fabric and every single thought in her head flutters away like pages in a high wind.

“Oh my  _god_ ,” she chokes, feeling the words catch and stick in her throat, and Winry lets out a breath so loud Sheska can hear it past the cover over her ears. She’s burning hot, shuddering in reaction to every motion of Winry’s fingers, now, and Winry’s moving more slowly, careful with every motion like she’s feeling her way. Sheska feels hypersensitive, all her nerve endings prickling on high alert, and Winry’s fitting her fingers in under her panties, brushing in against skin so hot Sheska doesn’t think at first to be embarrassed by how wet she is.

“This is incredible,” Winry says, her voice coming from what feels like a very long way away. Her wrist drags against the inside of Sheska’s leg, her thumb catches to steady her motions, and Sheska has a brief, momentary breath of anticipation before Winry moves. Then there’s friction, those gentle fingers slipping to dip just inside her, and Sheska’s eyes are going wide, all the air in her lungs leaving her body in a rush. Winry’s fingers feel impossibly hot, stronger and steadier than Sheska’s own ever are, and she’s barely even touching her and Sheska feels like she’s being taken apart to her component elements.

“Wow.” Winry’s words are slow, dragging enough that Sheska can make out the stunned care of them in spite of the headphones stealing any inflection from the sound. Winry’s fingers slide in deeper, the motion shocking all the way up Sheska’s spine and back down, and Sheska’s rocking up off the floor in a burst of startled response before the tremble in her legs collapses her back against the wall. Winry laughs, warm and bubbling with delight, and her thumb is shifting now, pressing against Sheska’s skin until she’s found the other girl’s clit, until Sheska is whimpering something meaningless and shattered under the friction that has taken the place of coherency. Winry braces her hand, presses in harder, and the pressure isn’t as good as friction would be but her fingers are sliding deeper, curling to press against impossibly sensitive nerve endings, and Sheska feels a little bit like she’s going blind, like all her vision is turning into a hazy white glow. She doesn’t know what her hands are doing, except that she’s grabbing at whatever she’s touching, fingers curling into desperate fists on fabric and the shape of Winry’s shoulder, and Winry’s leaning in against her and starting to move her hand in earnest.

It’s too much to focus on. Sheska regrets that, on some far-distant level, wishes she had the attention to spare to document every part of this experience the way she can commit books to memory in the span of minutes. But this isn’t text, these are experiences instead of words, and there’s too much to focus on, the blue of Winry’s eyes and the tingling not-enough of Winry’s thumb and the slick-slow pace of the other girl’s fingers dipping inside Sheska to shatter apart any hope of attention she may have once had. Winry’s fingers are longer than Sheska’s, or maybe it’s just that her angle is better; the reason doesn’t matter, Sheska decides hazily, just that she’s reaching farther than Sheska has ever managed alone, is dragging gentle with every motion of her hand until Sheska can’t stop her legs from shaking, can’t hope to keep her knees from falling wide and helpless to the heat in her. Winry’s moving faster, shifting her wrist enough that Sheska can feel the strength of her arm coming to bear of the motion of her fingers, and if Sheska had the words for it she would tell the other girl that it’s not speed she needs, that all it would take is for Winry to shift her thumb, that  _breathing_  on her would probably be enough with how weak-limbed and shaky she is. But she can’t manage to speak, coherency is well beyond the grasp of her thoughts, and that means she can’t give any kind of a warning, either, when Winry’s hand does slip, her thumb sliding sideways for a breath. It jolts through Sheska’s body, leaves her shivering with anticipation like she’s standing on a precipice, and then Winry moves again, shifts her hand back, and Sheska falls entirely to pieces. Everything shudders into heat, unbearable pleasure swamping all her attention into uncontrollable tremors, and Winry keeps moving, pushing into her in that same smooth motion while Sheska gasps and shivers her way through her orgasm and back out into awareness again.

It’s a long moment before Sheska can think to move, before the high flush of pleasure across her cheeks starts to darken into the burn of embarrassment. But Winry moves before she’s quite settled herself into self-consciousness, sliding her fingers free and away as fast as Sheska can take stock of herself, and then she’s speaking, asking “Did you hear anything?” before Sheska can frame an apology or a question or anything else more appropriate to the situation.

It takes her a moment to place the inquiry, to remember that she is supposed to be listening for the click of a phone and to make it past the stomach-dropping horror at her complete forgetfulness. But no, there’s no sound, there’s been no sound, and when she says, “No,” Winry flashes her a smile so bright it chases away all Sheska’s panic at once.

“Good,” she says, and she’s pulling her own headphones back into place, reaching out to push Sheska’s off her head. “My turn.”

For a moment Sheska’s lost, thinks hazily that Winry just means it’s her turn to listen to the tapped line. But Winry’s rocking back to sit at the floor before Sheska can think to ask, sliding her hands up under the hem of her skirt, and while Sheska is still staring at a complete loss Winry’s pushing back down, sliding her panties down across her thighs before Sheska yet has time to realize what she’s even doing.

Then “Oh my  _god_ ,” she blurts, claps a hand to her mouth as soon as she hears the too-loud shock in her words. She’s blushing again, trying to figure out how to apologize for her terribly obvious surprise, but Winry just laughs, the sound brighter and warmer now with Sheska’s headphones around her neck instead of over her ears.

“I’ll listen,” she announces, drags her panties down off her feet so she can toss them aside and lean back against the floor. She’s flushed, warm and pink and unbearably beautiful, and Sheska can feel her body lock up between appreciation and panic, uncertainty at how she should even approach what is clearly being offered.

Some part of her uncertainty must make it onto her face, because Winry pushes up onto an elbow, blinks at her as the teasing edge of her smile fades into gentleness. “Do you mind?” she asks, the words soft and warm with sincerity. “If you don’t want that’s okay, I just thought--”

“No!” Sheska says, too-loud, hits a shrill note that makes her flinch and flush darker. “No, I mean yes, yes, I want to.” Winry laughs, delight spreading out all across her face, and Sheska moves fast, before she has time to freeze again. Winry is nearly lying across the floor, only tipped up enough that she can watch Sheska move, with her knees spread apart enough that they seem an invitation, or enough of one to overcome Sheska’s hesitance.

Sheska leans in, reaches out to brace herself with a hand flat on the floor; she’s still a little shaky, warm and trembling with the lingering effects of pleasure in her veins, and she really doesn’t want to topple forward and crush Winry against the floor. The other girl blinks up at her, summer-yellow hair spread out under her shoulders, and Sheska can’t take a breath and can’t think but she’s still moving, her heart beating too fast for her to stop. Winry takes a breath as Sheska’s fingers bump against the inside of her thighs, her legs shifting wider apart as her eyelashes shift; she leans back, falls flat across the floor, and Sheska can’t stop staring, can’t even manage to close her mouth as she watches the flicker of reaction draw warm over Winry’s features and flutter her eyelids shut. It’s breathtaking, winds hot under her skin like another orgasm is forming itself in her mind, and then her fingers touch damp skin, and Winry shudders, and Sheska can hardly think for the rush of her own breathing.

“Oh my god,” she hears herself saying, the sound trembling in her throat, and she’s fitting her fingers inside Winry and Winry’s gasping, she’s  _moaning_ , encouragement hot on her lips and under Sheska’s skin. “Oh my  _god_.”

“Sheska,” Winry says, and fingers close on Sheska’s wrist, the grip tighter now than it has been this whole time. “ _More_.”

Sheska makes a whining noise, some strange catch of desperation in her throat, and complies. Winry’s hot against her fingers, slick and warm and fluttering reaction to her touch until Sheska feels like she’s borrowing the other girl’s electricity, like maybe she’s the one throwing sparks now. She presses in deeper in accordance with Winry’s breathless pleas, buries her fingers inside the other girl, and Winry’s still shifting, rocking her hips up and panting with an edge of desperate want to her inhales. Sheska tries for more, pressing her thumb against the other’s damp folds to rub against her clit, but Winry’s still whining some kind of want, incoherent and trembling and clearly anxious. It’s not until Sheska tries adding a third finger, with her hand trembling with heat, that Winry drops to the floor and lets out a breath of relief.

“Ah,” she sighs, sounding warmed-over and pleased. “Yes, like that,” and Sheska starts to move, shocked wide-eyed and breathless but too caught in the moment to stay still. Winry shifts her legs wider, her skirt hitching up closer to her hips, and Sheska could probably watch if she wanted, could lean back on her heels and see the slick slide of her fingers thrusting into the other girl. The idea makes her blush, tightens adrenaline all up her spine, but she doesn’t pull back; she’s not sure she could stand it, right now. The sensation is enough, as it is, the way she can feel Winry’s shuddery reactions tightening down against her fingers and the tiny moaning exhales the other girl is making with every movement of Sheska’s thumb. It spurs her on, persuades her to move faster, harder, until she’s using her entire arm to rock forward and press harder, and still Winry’s shuddering and gasping like she’s not quite at the edge yet.

“More,” she manages, voice dipping low and shaky. “Sheska, more,  _please_.”

“I  _can’t_ ,” Sheska gasps, but she tries anyway, curls her fingers up to press harder inside Winry and rubs against her with her thumb. Winry takes a shuddering gasp, her forehead creasing like she’s reaching for a far-off answer, and Sheska moves as fast as she can, until she’s almost afraid of hurting the other girl with the force of her movements. But Winry doesn’t protest, just lets her breath out in a rush as her expression clears, and when she comes it shudders all through her body, brings her arching up off the floor and tightening so hard on Sheska’s fingers Sheska almost can’t keep moving. Everything falls out-of-rhythm, Sheska’s movements and Winry’s breathing and Sheska’s thoughts, and Sheska’s movements slow and stutter their way to a halt while Winry shivers and gasps against the floor. Sheska doesn’t slide her fingers free until Winry blinks her eyes open, gives her a meltingly warm smile and a faint laugh, and then she’s drawing away so Winry can pull her down and in for a lazy-warm kiss.

“I didn’t hear anything either,” Winry says when Sheska pulls back, feeling dazed and shocked and a little like she’s caught in some endless daydream. “We should be fine.”

“Oh,” Sheska says, “Right.” It’s strange to remember there is something in the world besides Winry warm and smiling underneath her, stranger to remember that they are in the middle of what is ultimately intended to be a covert operation. Winry laughs again as Sheska leans back to try to fumble her headphones back on; they catch at her glasses, tangle in her hair, and in the end it’s not until Winry sits up and reaches out to do it for her that she can get them back into place.

It’s a shame, really, to lose the ability to hear the faint hiss of Winry’s warm-fast breathing in her ears. But Winry’s smiling at her, and her fingers are lingering against Sheska’s shoulders, and it’s not like Sheska can find any strength to complain about their situation.

She thinks she may have finally found something she likes more than reading.


End file.
